


For The Love Of Tomorrow

by Interrobang



Series: Switch AU [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: (of a sort), Alpha Jesse McCree, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Body Dysphoria, Bottom Jesse McCree, Established Relationship, Knotting, M/M, Male Lactation, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Hanzo Shimada, Sex Toys, Top Hanzo Shimada
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 22:57:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11542173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Interrobang/pseuds/Interrobang
Summary: McCree gets another heat again, but this time it's different: he has someone to share it with, and stability at last. It doesn't make the week any easier, though.





	For The Love Of Tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo! This is a commission! I was very pleased to visit this AU again. I'm a sucker for A/B/O and I felt like this AU might be a good way to work out some dysphoric feelings I've had lately. Biology and identity aren't always simple, even in a fantasy.

It’d started out feeling almost like the flu. His heats were so irregular that he’d thought it might actually have been some kind of virus. He’d been hot and achy, with cold sweats that woke him up in the middle of the night. Hanzo had been there to hush him back to sleep, but it was fitful for the both of them, what with the tossing and turning.

 

He was sensitive all over, every piece of clothing too grating, too constricting. Other agents noticed: Hana snapped at him a few times for jiggling his leg while they were mid-flight, and even Genji took a wider berth around him when he noticed McCree going for long runs and harder routines in the gym.

 

A few days in, the body aches subsided a bit and gave way to a deep, endless hunger. He had headaches, and sweats, and his memory seemed shot. All he wanted to do was hole up in his bed with a buffet’s worth of take-out and sleep for days. 

 

And Hanzo. Yeah, he thought to himself, Hanzo could come too. It’d be nice to have his mate around during his hermitage-- at least until he felt a bit more like himself again.

 

He was lucky enough to be suffering on a rare day off when it finally clicked for him. He’d ended up in bed rolling around uselessly for most of the day. In the evening, after a cold shower to rinse off the sweat, he stopped by the medical bay. A checkup couldn’t hurt, maybe a little dose of something to kill what was probably a fever.

 

\--

 

“When was the last time you went  through a heat?” Angela tapped away at her tablet without looking up-- and failed to notice McCree’s head snapping up at the question.

 

“ _ Excuse _ me?” McCree balked at the insinuation.

 

“Your last heat. When was it?”

 

“It was-- uh.”

 

Angela rolled her eyes. 

 

“These things are important, Jesse, especially with your unusual circumstances. Do you remember, or shall I look it up in your records? I think we have a note somewhere.”

 

McCree’s hands tightened on the edge of the exam table. And here he’d been thinking he’d just need a couple aspirin and some PTO. 

 

“Just, uh. Not...that long ago. Maybe 8 months? Less than a year.” He kept his eyes on the floor, determined not to fidget.

 

Angela’s eyebrows shot up.

 

“You are aware that most people who have heats have them far more frequently than that, yes?” Her expression softened. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

 

“Angie, you  _ know  _ I don’t get ‘em that often. Last time before that one was...shit, like three  _ years _ ?”

 

She tapped at her tablet a few more times before settling into her rolling chair opposite McCree. She set the tablet aside and interlaced her fingers.

 

“Are you worried about the sudden onset?”

 

“It’s not--” He groaned, trying to find the words. “It ain’t even  _ sudden _ . I’ve been feelin’ it all week but I couldn’t fuckin’ figure it  _ out _ . When  _ Hanzo--”  _  He cut himself off, biting back on the complaint.

 

“When Hanzo, a man with more typical omega biology, heads into heat, he’s prone to more typical symptoms. He’s used to identifying it before it sets in.” Angela patted McCree’s knee comfortingly. “Every person’s biology is different.Your cycle may have just been triggered by some external factor you had no control over. Things are changing around here, Jesse. That can throw anyone off.”

 

“Yeah, yeah.” McCree grumbled. “So what do I do about it?”

 

\--

 

Angela had told him to try and rest, but the longer McCree puttered around his rooms, the foggier he got. Snacking stopped being satisfying, and there were only so many times he could rearrange his bedding. After identifying the heat cycle, he’d decided to just go with the nesting urges. Resisting had never been comfortable, anyway.

 

Hanzo wasn’t due back on base for another day or so. If McCree was lucky, the worst of it would be over and Hanzo wouldn’t have to accommodate him. The first heat had been awkward enough. Previously unspoken feelings or no, McCree was still a little uncomfortable with the fact that his stupid heat was what had brought them together to begin with. 

 

The fact that he’d helped Hanzo through his own cycles in the last several months didn’t really occur to him as anything special. After all, they were bonded. They were  _ mates.  _ He was an alpha, so that’s what he did for Hanzo-- kept him full and satisfied, made sure he was healthy and safe until it passed and they could resume their usual schedules. It was just a part of life.

 

But he was an alpha-- at least  _ he  _ liked to think so, errant biology aside. A heat every few years didn’t mean much when compared to the other instincts and skills, and-- yeah, the fucking knot at the base of his dick. That much was undeniable, at least. For all intents and purposes, he was an alpha, and damn proud of it.

 

Getting such a prickly little bit of shame certainly didn’t help with his confidence. 

 

Maybe Hanzo wouldn’t come back in time-- maybe Angela wouldn’t tell him. 

 

Sighing frustratedly, McCree stripped down and climbed back in bed. The sheets were blessedly cool against his sore skin, the pillows just firm enough to abate his headache a bit. His chest still ached, though, and he shifted on the mattress trying to assuage the discomfort.

 

Hanzo might have left that morning at the asscrack of dawn, but the bed still smelled faintly of him. McCree took a whiff of their pillows. His sense of smell was getting stronger-- one more symptom that he ticked off his mental checklist. 

 

When the smell faded, he pressed deeper, seeking it out again, until he was unconsciously rubbing his face into the pillows. He just couldn’t get comfortable.

 

There was a knock at his door. McCree groaned and rolled over. He was loathe to find pants and answer it; he was heavy and groggy, not fit for company. It couldn’t be Hanzo-- he’d be in Europe by now, surely-- and McCree was pissy enough that anyone else would just be in for some salt.

 

“Jesse?” McCree paused in his pity party and perked up when he heard the voice on the other side of the door. “May I come in?”

 

McCree sat up eagerly in bed, quickly running his fingers through his hair. He knew he must have been less than presentable. “Athena, let ‘im in.”

 

Hanzo peeked into the dim room before entering. When he saw McCree’s bare torso hanging out of the sheets, he sighed and locked the door behind him. McCree was quick to greet him.

 

“Hey sweetpea, what’re you doing back so quick?”

 

“The mission fell through-- our intel was intercepted and we got word that the target fled. Are you okay, dearest?” Hanzo said softly. “Angela said you were not feeling well.”

 

McCree dragged a hand over his face and pushed sweat-damp hair out of his eyes. Damn it, Angela. “Just not feeling so hot. Or  _ too  _ hot, I guess.”

 

Hanzo looked at him consideringly. “Angela did not specify what was wrong with you. Any ideas?”

 

McCree shrugged. “She couldn’t see  _ anything  _ wrong, really. Just some pre-switch-heat bullshit. Said to rest for a day and see how I feel tomorrow. ‘Cept I feel like shit and it’s just getting worse.” He smiled weakly. “Glad you’re here, though.”

 

Hanzo made a thoughtful noise and wandered around the room setting down his jacket and belongings. A few bottles of water went on the bedside table, his bag by the door. 

 

“What exactly is plaguing you?” Hanzo asked as he rummaged through his bags. “Is there anything I can do?”

 

McCree rolled over to face the wall. His sheets were already getting sweaty, and he longed for a pillow full of ice to smother himself with. His heart rate was steadily increasing just with Hanzo in the room: as much as his familiar smell and sounds comforted McCree, the fact that he now had to own up to the embarrassment was a reality he couldn’t avoid.

 

He sulked in the sheets for a minute while Hanzo unpacked.

 

“Everything smells stronger. My feet hurt. My fuckin’  _ tits  _ hurt, jesus, and I ain’t even built for that.”

 

Hanzo moved closer, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He rubbed soothing circles into McCree’s back. McCree shivered and sighed, moaning as Hanzo’s rough hands pressed into the tight muscles over his shoulders. That was one advantage, at least.

 

“If it helps,” Hanzo said huskily, maneuvering himself to hover over McCree, “you smell  _ delectable  _ right now.” His breath was humid against the shell of McCree’s ear, his hands wandering over the planes of his stomach. The same strong fingers that had massaged his back now dragged through McCree’s thick body hair, over the curve of his gut to just beneath the dip of his breastbone, over and over again in a soothing circuit.

 

McCree whined and dragged a hand down his hot face, blushing scarlet when Hanzo leaned ever closer and peppered kisses along his temple. 

 

“I wish it did, doll, but--” his complaint was cut off with a moan when Hanzo’s questing hands slid up and up, cupping the swell of one hairy pectoral. McCree shuddered quietly when Hanzo leaned down and made to spoon up behind him, his grip tightening. McCree felt a traitorous gush of slick between his thighs at the closeness.

 

“I just ain’t--” McCree cut himself off again, taking in shuddery breaths. His heart pounded in his throat. His body prickled with icy sweat. “Hanzo.”

 

Hanzo paused. His grip slowly slackened, and he backed off, sitting up on the bed to look down at McCree with concern.

 

“Is everything alright?”

 

“I’m just not...I’m not feelin’ great,” McCree said nervously. 

 

“Am I doing something wrong?”

 

“No!” McCree barked. Hanzo flinched. McCree grabbed for his retreating hand, pulling it back to wrap around his waist. “I just didn’t want you to see me like this again, is all.”

 

“Like what?” Hanzo asked, one eyebrow arched. “Vulnerable? Because I have seen you high on morphine before. All you did was wax poetic about my eyebrows.” He chuckled. McCree relaxed marginally. “This is nothing compared to that-- this, at least, is natural.”

 

“Yeah,” McCree argued, “but morphine ain’t a  _ heat _ . I’m…” He ground his teeth, searching for the words. “Ain’t it weird to have to take care of an alpha like this?”

 

Hanzo’s other eyebrow joined its twin near Hanzo’s hairline. 

 

“Is that what this is about?” Hanzo adjusted himself behind McCree, cuddling up close before replying fully. “You are my mate. If you were a beta or an omega or something else entirely, I would still take care of you as needed.”

 

McCree swallowed thickly. He was still overly warm, but Hanzo’s presence was comforting. The omega was putting off waves of calmness, his smell mixing softly with McCree’s own. His hand settled back on McCree’s chest, pressing his palm over McCree’s heart.

 

“Yeah,” McCree said quietly, his voice rough. Then, louder: “Yeah.  _ Yeah _ . You’re right. Still fuckin’ annoying, though.”

 

“You know,” Hanzo whispered conversationally, making McCree shiver, “When my heats are just about to hit, I’ve found one things helps with the...soreness.” He squeezed a little harder, his hand kneading at the palmful of flesh. “Would you like to try it?”

 

“I-- uh--” McCree stuttered and clutched behind himself at Hanzo’s hip. He was suddenly, achingly aware of the fact that he’d crawled under his covers in nothing but his birthday suit, and Hanzo was still fully dressed behind him. The soft fabric of Hanzo’s pants was warm against McCree’s rear, surely getting soaked with how close Hanzo had pressed against him. “Yeah, why not?”

 

Hanzo didn’t move much at first, just keeping up his massage on McCree’s chest. McCree squirmed a bit, still sensitive and sore, but to his surprise, the rhythmic, repetitive squeezing actually started to feel...good.  _ Really  _ good. He sighed in relief and shifted against the pillows when Hanzo tucked his chin over McCree’s shoulder, pressing kisses into his hair. 

 

Then the massage became more purposeful. McCree groaned when Hanzo pinched and pulled at one nipple over and over again. The sore flesh swelled up, pink and hard, and McCree whimpered a little bit at the frisson that jolted up his spine at the peak of each pull. His hand snuck under the sheets to cup himself-- not stroking, barely touching-- just holding the half-hard length of himself as Hanzo played with his chest.

 

“C’mon, Hanzo,” he breathed, pressing the expanse of his bare back into Hanzo’s hold. “What’re you gonna-- oh.” McCree quieted again when Hanzo started sucking wet marks into the junction of his shoulder and sliding one thigh between his own, nearly rolling McCree over as he continued his assault on McCree’s swollen nipples. “Yeah, that’s-- okay, damn.”

 

McCree’s breath became labored when Hanzo started rolling his hips and pulling at his chest at the same time. He was still mouthing over McCree’s shoulders, pulling McCree back against himself. Every bit of McCree’s skin lit up under his touches. He felt small in the wide circle of Hanzo’s thick arms, his every freckle and fold appreciated. His cock swelled in his hand, twitching at one long, drawn-out pinch on his nipple. It was a weird contrast, he decided: he could feel his knot just barely thickened in his palm, but his chest was more sensitive than usual. It was tender, his nipples puffy and-- and--

 

“That’s it,” Hanzo murmured between kisses to the mating mark on his neck. “Let it out.”

 

McCree’s eyes flew open as he startled in Hanzo’s grip. Hanzo tightened his arms around McCree, keeping him in place as he struggled to look down at Hanzo’s hands.

 

Because when McCree stared, gape-mouthed, at his own chest, he saw that it was...leaking? Hanzo’s calloused fingers slowly pulled and squeezed at McCree’s chest, hard enough that McCree was sure his mate could feel every beat of his heart. Every time he pinched McCree’s nipple between thumb and forefinger, tiny droplets of creamy milk welled up, thick and viscous-- fatty, rich, good for young. McCree groaned and tried to curl in on himself-- anything to hide the embarrassment. 

 

But Hanzo didn’t let him go. Indeed, rather than let McCree shy away from the sensation, Hanzo scooted up behind him insistently, pressing kisses into his bare back. His hand withdrew from McCree’s damp chest, and as McCree turned to say something, he was struck dumb by the sight of Hanzo licking the few precious beads of liquid from his fingers. 

 

“Not bad,” Hanzo said slyly. “I would not mind another taste.”

 

McCree sputtered. Of all the weird things they’d gotten up to in the last many months, this was  _ not  _ something he’d ever expected to deal with. Maybe-- maybe far in the future, with pups on the way-- but not from  _ himself.  _ McCree was nearly speechless, but not quite. 

 

“Jesus fucking christ, Hanzo,” he said breathily. “When did you get like this?” 

 

“Your heats are rare,” Hanzo said, shrugging. The motion jostled McCree’s body, and he had to bite back a whimper as the motion made his swollen chest ache. “We knew this. I have...done some research.”

 

McCree let out a shuddery sigh and rolled onto his stomach. There would no doubt be damp spots underneath him. His cock was hard as he’d ever felt it, leaking stickily into the crease between his thigh and the bed. If he concentrated he could even feel the pulsing of blood through his veins, the milk welling up at the stiff points of his nipples. 

 

Hanzo’s hands returned to McCree’s back, languorously rubbing up and down his spine. 

 

“If it makes you uncomfortable, I can stop,” Hanzo said softly. “We can do something else. We do not have to tend to your heat unless you want to. I--” he paused. “I know that we have been together for a long time. But our first encounter-- it was less than ideal. I understand if you do not want to repeat that.”

 

McCree shot up out of the sheets, nearly knocking Hanzo off the bed.

 

“Excuse me?” he said sharply. “Nah, sugar, it ain’t that. I’m just--” he ran a hand through his hair, mussing it further. “I’m horny, but I’m hurtin’, and I just don’t-- I don’t know how to make it better.” He shoved his face back into the pillow, his mumbles muffled.

 

“What was that?” Hanzo asked teasingly, leaning in close. He scratched at McCree’s scalp a bit. “I do not think the pillow is a very good listener.”

 

“I said,” McCree whined, “that I want you to fuck me until my legs turn to jelly, okay? It’s still early, but I’m just so-- I’m so damn  _ hot,  _ Hanzo, you’re too close, you’re so--  _ fuck _ ,” he hissed. “You’re too good to me.” He reached on hand out to brush over the curve of Hanzo’s cheek, admiring the brightness of his eyes and the laugh lines surrounding them. “It’s enough to make a man damn nervous, is all,” McCree continued, pressing into Hanzo’s arms. “I keep expecting for this to be a joke or something.”

 

“Never,” Hanzo swore. “I would never do something like that.”

 

They spent a few moments simply breathing together. McCree swore the scent in the room got thicker, the pungency of pheromones increasing tenfold the closer he burrowed into Hanzo’s space. It drove him nearly into a frenzy of huffing breath and twitching fingers, pushing the sensation of Hanzo’s hands on his bare skin to the forefront of his mind. McCree wrapped his hands around Hanzo’s waist, sliding one down to grip a buttock. 

 

He grinned and pulled him against himself in the sheets. Instinct would not be ignored.

 

“I think,” Hanzo said slyly, “that if you want me to fuck you to the point of breaking, you should perhaps let me undress.”

 

“What would be the fun in that?” McCree mused. “I could get you messy, maybe make you walk out of here in my clothes stinking of a fresh fuck.” He smirked through the brain fog. “Let everyone know what a lucky sonofabitch you are.”

 

Hanzo laughed softly. “I think they already know, dearest.” He nuzzled up against McCree’s neck, sucking gently just next to their mating mark. The mark was still a tinge of red months later, a bloom of blood vessels just under the skin. McCree shuddered; it was still sensitive when touched, still a bit tender under Hanzo’s lips. He pressed a little closer, slipping a hand under Hanzo’s shirt.

 

“I mean, I ain’t gonna stop you if you want to-- but you don’t...have to.” McCree was suddenly nervous. There was no reason for it, really, except that he was unused to being so needy. Usually they met as equals in bed, the few exceptions being the times that they willingly relinquished control to one or the other. 

 

Hanzo kissed at his shoulder softly, pressing little pecks into his collarbones and the thick column of his neck.

 

“I will always want you,” Hanzo said quietly. “You couldn’t keep me away.” 

 

McCree laughed nervously and pulled Hanzo just a little bit tighter-- then stuck his hand down Hanzo’s pants, laughing fully when Hanzo jumped at the sudden contact.

 

“Alright, okay, I get it, you big sap,” McCree said fondly. “You’re mine and I’m yours and we have each other forever; now please, just...take care of me, yeah?”

 

Hanzo laughed and pulled away. The sheets were warm where he’d been settled, and McCree pressed his face into them, savoring the lingering mixed smell of the two of them. The scent was more pungent that it’d been before Hanzo had returned-- better now.  _ Much  _ better, he decided. His own heat pheromones were strong enough that even he could smell them, and it was delightful to get Hanzo’s own weaker strains along with his own. It was everything from skin to hair products to the detergent they shared, and it calmed McCree’s heart as much as it heated up his body.

 

_ Shared _ ...the thought lingered on McCree’s mind as he lazed in bed, hazily watching Hanzo undress. They  _ shared _ ; they lived together and worked together and  _ fit  _ together, two pieces of a puzzle made of odd shapes. McCree’s vision went a bit hazy as he lounged limply in their bed watching Hanzo undress. The omega was unashamed of his body, but perfunctory: he disrobed leisurely, taking the time to set his clothes aside neatly. He even rummaged through the cabinets for some energy bars. 

 

The display shouldn’t have been erotic. But, well, who was McCree to deny the attractiveness of competency? Sure, maybe some millennia in the past heat partners would hunt and scavenge to provide for their lover, but hey-- some granola bars and water would do for him. 

 

He was an alpha, after all, used to providing a strong hand. But then again, Hanzo wasn’t a stereotyped omega: he was forward, decisive,  _ powerful;  _ he radiated confidence and competence and every other aspect McCree could hope for in a partner. 

 

So when Hanzo turned back to the bed, McCree was already touching himself, hopelessly turned on by the tame display of a nude Hanzo arranging bottles of water on the bedside table for easy access.

 

“I know it shouldn’t be a turn-on,” McCree gasped, “but you preparin’ for the aftermath of this shit is really doing it for me.”

 

Hanzo laughed a full-belly chuckle and leaned down to the mattress to press a flurry of kisses to McCree’s temple before straightening up again. 

 

“I should hope so,” Hanzo said. “I have been here long enough, have I not?”

 

“Yeah, lord, you sure have,” McCree said, arching his back as he squeezed the base of his dick. He could feel himself opening up, wet and pliant, when Hanzo sat back down on the edge of the bed. It was almost too much stimuli: his own rough hand on his dick, Hanzo’s hands gently massaging his sides. He wanted to bask in the attention until he passed out.

 

Hanzo laughed when McCree whined, and he realized that he might have said that last bit out loud. 

 

“Hey now,” McCree grumbled. “I don’t make fun of you when you’re in heat.”

 

“Of course not,” Hanzo said saltily. “You just make a mental note to repeat all the ridiculous things I say when I’m desperate to be bred.”

 

McCree groaned and rolled over so his back was to Hanzo. 

 

“If you’re gonna roast me, you might as well get down here,” McCree said. “Or I’m gonna finish without you.”

 

“You wouldn’t,” Hanzo said cheerfully. “You like my cock too much for that.”

 

McCree seethed, beet red with embarrassment. “Alright, shit-- fine. Just-- don’t leave me hangin’, yeah? This is embarrassing enough without you adding to it.”

 

Hanzo scooted into the sheets, drawing up behind McCree with a sigh. He curled his arms around McCree’s broad form once again and nuzzled into his back.

 

“I would  _ never _ ,” Hanzo swore. Then he paused. “Unless you wanted me to, of course.”

 

“Well I  _ don’t _ ,” McCree said irritably. “Now are you gonna fuck me or what? The butterfly kisses are sweet an’ all, but my body’s saying I should be jumping you like a wildcat right now.”

 

Hanzo laughed, and the full-body shaking settled McCree. It brought him back from the edge of heat-induced irritability, reminded him that he was with someone he loved. 

 

“Alright, cowboy,” Hanzo said with a grin. “You are lucky your hat is on the coatrack, or I would tell you to hang on to it.”

 

With that, he slid his hands over McCree’s sweaty hips, past the rolls of his abdomen and his furred navel, and gripped one thick thigh with a strong palm. McCree groaned when Hanzo tugged at his knee until McCree got the message and hitched his leg up, giving Hanzo better access.

 

To his surprise, Hanzo didn’t go for his slippery, loose hole immediately. Instead, he slid through the mess teasingly before cupping McCree’s testicles, giving them a sound squeeze. He chuckled when McCree whined and his hips jolted.

 

“I do not intend to treat you like an omega, if that is what you were afraid of,” Hanzo whispered into McCree’s ear. McCree shivered; the sensation was too close, too intimate. “You are an alpha--  _ my  _ alpha-- and this change does not mean you’re any different.” He punctuated his words by rolling McCree’s balls in his hand, feeling the weight of them before massaging at McCree’s damp taint and then sliding a thumb, ever so slowly, towards the wet pucker of his hole.

 

McCree all but whined, arching his back to try and push his hips closer, pull his legs wider. 

 

“I know, but-- I just--” McCree shuddered when Hanzo gently sunk his teeth into the meat of his shoulder, just barely skating the tips of his fingers over his hole. He was ready,  _ so  _ ready, and yet-- and yet Hanzo wouldn’t push in. “Are you going to--?”

 

“I will,” Hanzo interrupted, squeezing at McCree’s cheeks reassuringly. “In my own  time. You need more than a quick fuck. You need to be taken care of-- in all senses of the word.”

 

McCree let out a frustrated groan. “You’re really gonna be thorough about this? You’re makin’ me feel bad for rushing into bed when you get all hot ‘n bothered.”

 

Hanzo chuckled. “You have your way, I have mine.”

 

“Hanzo,” McCree gasped. “There’s a time for subtlety, and this ain’t it. Don’t make me beg.”

 

Hanzo pulled back a little, using rougher touches when McCree arched into a harsh tug. He rolled McCree onto his back, then arched over him, nosing into his neck.

 

“Subtlety, hm?” Hanzo said, sucking at the mating mark with renewed vigor. “I suppose I can throw it away.” With that, he bit down hard, moaning when the pain made McCree thrash against him. He kept his teeth clamped tight as he gripped McCree’s cock and began to jerk him off roughly, too fast and too dry and just-- 

 

McCree moaned. It was  _ just right.  _ Hanzo pulled away, panting and still gripping his cock, and licked at the blooming red marks around McCree’s neck. He kept kissing and sucking his way over McCree’s shoulders, his collarbone, all the way down his chest until he was nosing through chest hair to graze one nipple with his teeth. 

 

McCree moaned and jerked under him.

 

“Ah--! Oh, c’mon, Hanzo--” But if he was going to say anything else, it was drowned out by a drawn-out moan when Hanzo closed his lips over one still-milky nipple. 

 

“Nng!” McCree’s hands flew to Hanzo’s head, tangling in the thick strands. Whether it was to pull him closer or pull him away, neither of them could tell, but the roots of Hanzo’s hair stung sharp enough to send frisson down his spine. 

 

There were no teeth; he was too gentle for that. Despite the unholy vacuum of his mouth, Hanzo’s teeth stayed far away from McCree’s sensitive nipple. He licked and kissed around the areola, which was a puffy pink and shiny from spit when he pulled away. 

 

Hanzo’s hands were still on McCree’s shoulders and he used his leverage now to hold McCree down on the bed. He buried his face in McCree’s chest and inhaled deeply, growling slightly when McCree shifted under him.

 

“You have your methods, I have mine,” Hanzo repeated, rubbing his thumbs into McCree’s shoulders. “This is for you. Let me-- Jesse!” He laughed when McCree arched his back and all but forced Hanzo’s face back towards his chest, then happily resumed his feast. “Tsk. Impatient.”

 

“I’m pretty sure I’m gonna die if you don’t dick me soon, babydoll,” McCree panted. “Get something in me quick, cause I’m-- it’s comin’ on real fast.” He swore when Hanzo squeezed his pec and flicked at it with his tongue. When he looked down, he saw a dribble of creamy milk mixing on Hanzo’s tongue. He closed his eyes against the sight, afraid that he’d never be able to look at the carton in the fridge the same again.

 

Closing his eyes was a mistake. It made every other sense jump out: Hanzo’s weight over him, the sheets soft against his back, their pheromones thick in the room, even the faint squeaking of the bed-- it all intensified until McCree’s chest was heaving and he was unable to hide from the reality of the situation. This was a weird heat, with a slow beginning far different from his last few sporadic cycles. Now that it was here, it was set to be a doozy.

 

Hanzo was quiet, but it was an intense kind of half-silence. His hands never stopped moving, whether it was sliding over McCree’s side or cupping his chest. He couldn’t seem to get enough of the weak stream of milk coming out of both nipples. He suckled greedily, lapping at each side as if chasing the taste of a delicacy. McCree moaned every time a fresh droplet welled up. Hanzo chuckled softly, panting against McCree’s stomach.

 

“I told you, did I not?” Hanzo said breathily. “It helps, right?”

 

“Y’know,” McCree said giddily, “I think you might be onto something. I sure feel a hell of a lot better than I did before you got here.”

 

He pulled Hanzo up, moaning when he tasted something faintly sweet and creamy on Hanzo’s lips. He snagged Hanzo’s bottom lip in his teeth-- and then finally noted that yeah, the sheets weren’t hiding anything. He was suddenly acutely aware of his thighs stretched out to hook behind Hanzo’s knees, of his own throbbing length laying fat against his stomach. His cock twitched every time Hanzo shifted on top of him, whether it was to stretch for another kiss or to knead at his chest some more. 

 

And it wasn’t like McCree was alone-- Hanzo’s hands were busy all over his torso, but he was shifting the bed from little rocking motions of his hips against the sheets. 

 

McCree laughed breathlessly and tugged him closer with his legs wrapped around Hanzo’s waist. He rolled them on their sides and reached down to slide over the vee of Hanzo’s sweat-slick hips. But just as he tugged him in, intent on finally getting some kind of relief from the wetness between his thighs, Hanzo pulled away.

 

“Hold on,” he said, panting. “I have-- I have something.”

 

“Is it--?” McCree raised an eyebrow questioningly. At Hanzo’s shy smile, McCree covered his face and flopped back on the bed. “Yeah, alright. Shit, this is  _ not  _ how I was expecting to break that in.”

 

Hanzo rolled off the bed. It should have made a comical sight-- Hanzo’s cock bobbing as he walked, a faint hitch in his step-- but McCree would have watched him all day. Hanzo rummaged through the bottom of a dresser drawer for a minute before pulling out a seemingly innocuous object.

 

It was dark plastic, sturdy and stiff-- a sleeve with a very special attachment.

 

Hanzo hurried back to bed. McCree was sitting up with interest by the time he collapsed back into the sheets, and he kissed him giddily in anticipation.

 

“Do you want me to--”

 

“Would you--”

 

They cut each other off, then laughed. Hanzo handed the thick ring to McCree. 

 

“Here. Just-- slide it on.”

 

McCree made a show of it, kissing down Hanzo’s stomach until he was breaths away from the leaking head of Hanzo’s cock. Even as he paused, breathing roughly, he watched in rapt attention as a pearl of precum welled up at the tip. He dipped forward, mouth open, and just barely closed his lips over the tip of Hanzo’s cock. He suckled weakly, gathering a line of pre with the tip of his tongue while Hanzo’s fingers carded  through his hair.

 

It took a mighty helping of willpower not to simply sink forward and swallow Hanzo down to the root. McCree settled for one long, slow swallow over the length of him before pulling off, licking his lips clean. He nuzzled into Hanzo’s thigh, panting quietly. He could feel his body on fire, wet between the thighs and aching to be filled. The toy would help. He just had to gather the energy to do it.

 

Slowly-- too slowly-- he worked the sleeve over Hanzo’s dick. It took a bit of lube, and a bit of pushing, but then-- it settled, a thick addition right at the base of Hanzo’s cock, his balls secure in the ring below.

 

An artificial knot. 

 

McCree followed his hands with his mouth, pleased as punch that he was finally getting somewhere. His nipples were still sore, probably still leaking a bit, puffy as they were. He nipped and licked at the cut of Hanzo’s hipbones, clutched a hand around to grab at the swell of his buttocks. 

 

“I’m never gonna get tired of this,” McCree whispered against Hanzo’s pelvis. “You, me, a little bit of quiet…”

 

“You are not as quiet as you think you are,” Hanzo said, amused. He pet a hand through McCree’s hair. They looked at each other fondly, McCree’s flushed face pressed into Hanzo’s thigh. The toy sat neatly, obscenely dark and shiny with lube, right by his mouth. McCree sighed happily and  turned into it, licking around the toy and nosing at Hanzo’s balls.

 

“You smell fucking amazing,” McCree groaned. “Like...when you’re in heat, I swear I just wanna eat you up, but-- right now I’d kill a man for you.” He paused, pressing wet kisses along the shaft of Hanzo’s cock. “I’d fight an army to keep you in my bed.”

 

“You would not have to,” Hanzo reassured, his fingers tightening in McCree’s hair. “They would already be dead. Come here, dearest.” He pulled McCree up to kneeling, kissing him deeply. Their tongues dragged together. It was the best McCree had felt in weeks: the restlessness finally stilled in his limbs, his breath finally evened out. With Hanzo in his arms he could relax again. It was like the last few days of being on edge were melting, the rough patches all smoothed out under the balm of Hanzo’s voice and hands. 

 

McCree relaxed back into the sheets, finally comfortable. The overwhelming fogginess was abating, and felt… clear. He could see what was in front of him, and it was all he needed: Hanzo, ready to care for him no matter how much effort it took. He relaxed back into the sheets with a sigh, pliant and loose. He moaned again when Hanzo thumbed at a nipple, spreading the fatty pearl of milk over his areola, before leaning in to suckle. 

 

Hanzo spent a long time-- perhaps too long-- playing with his chest. Some part of McCree said that he wasn’t built for this, that his body was misbehaving. But another part, a part more dominant and demanding, said that his body was his to do with as he pleased, damn the naysayers. He reveled in what he could make his body do. That he could be an alpha, with all its trappings, and still have this tender moment where he  _ provided  _ in a way most alphas couldn’t. 

 

It took some groping and whining, but Hanzo finally pressed his hips close and held himself, staring at McCree’s hole intently. He looked like he was waiting for something-- a sign, maybe.

 

“If you want me to tell you to hurry up, you’re a bit past the mark.” McCree panted lightly, smiling through the haze. “I ain’t gonna tell you to stop, if that’s what you’re worried about. I wouldn’t anyway, heat or no.”

 

“I know,” Hanzo said with a lopsided smile. “But it helps to hear you so enthusiastic regardless.”

 

McCree rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that’s me. Real enthusiastic. Are you gonna take care of me or not, stud?”

 

Hanzo laughed, but he did get down to business. He lined up his cock, rubbing the flushed head of it against McCree’s hole a few times, watching as it slipped through the natural slickness McCree was putting out. He paused there, holding himself firmly, before he pushed in. 

 

McCree sucked in a breath when the head breached him. Hanzo stopped, panting as McCree unconsciously tightened around him.

 

“God  _ damn _ ,” McCree hissed. “Keep going.”

 

Hanzo pushed in further, the slide rich and slow. McCree held his breath the whole time, afraid that if he devoted any energy to breathing that he’d miss a moment of sensation. When Hanzo paused, it felt like they were breathing for the first time in hours.

 

McCree dug his fingernails into Hanzo’s back, tugging him forward. Still, Hanzo paused just before the apex of his thrust, stilling his hips. McCree felt the hard silicon of the toy brush up against him. It was a little cooler than body temperature, a little harder than any natural surface. 

 

Naturally, he whined about it.

 

“C’mon,” he cajoled, his breath coming in quick pants. “Finish the job. Fill me up, Hanzo. Don’t you wanna breed me?”

 

But still, Hanzo didn’t move. Instead he leaned down to press wet, sloppy kisses over McCree’s chest, into the dip of his collarbones, right up against the red bloom of his mating mark. 

 

“In time,” he promised, his hands wandering over McCree’s sides. They massaged into his round stomach, ran lovingly over every roll and hairy patch. 

 

McCree sighed into the attention, reveling in the simple sensation of fullness. He groaned bodily when Hanzo grabbed his knees and hauled his thick legs up, nearly folding him in half. It left him breathless, air a bit hard to collect, but-- lord, so worth it. Hanzo rolled his hips, the cut of his waist sublime when McCree could pull enough energy into his eyelids to keep them open. His face was one of concentration, every iota of his being focused on the area where they were joined.

 

McCree looked down, enraptured by the slow pace. There Hanzo’s hips swiveled in a steady rhythm, slowly pushing to the puffy, clutching embrace of McCree’s hole. He slowed, just the head lodged inside, before pushing in steadily, inexorably, until the base of the fake knot was pressed right up against his rim.

 

McCree’s hand tightened on Hanzo’s shoulder. His ankle twitched in Hanzo’s grip.

 

“Do it,” he said breathlessly.

 

The push was a little harder than any natural knot would have been. The toy was unforgivingly firm, too hard to even pretend it was natural. Still, it satisfied something in McCree-- a bone deep craving to be stuffed full, to know that when Hanzo came-- for it was an inevitability, and one he looked forward to-- none of his precious, creamy cum would leak out. He shuddered when the bulge of it popped in, moaned out loud when Hanzo stilled inside him.

 

“That--” Hanzo nearly choked on his own words as McCree tightened around him. Not just his insides, but his legs, his arms-- he grasped desperately at everything he could reach.

 

“It’s good, it’s good, it’s all good.” McCree repeated the mantra over and over, sweating profusely. “I’m  _ real  _ good, promise, shit.” 

 

It took some adjusting, but Hanzo moved again eventually. He was more cautious,more sensitive. Every movement jostled the toy, pulled it against McCree’s clutching rim until he was clenching down over and over again on the short length of it pulling him apart from the inside out. 

 

Hanzo might have been experimenting, but McCree was going wild. He whined and jumped and clenched everywhere he could, every instinct in him demanding that he be fucked and bred good and proper. Hanzo was a gentle lover, but he needed a firm hand.

 

He reached out.

 

“Hanzo,” he gasped. “I need you to-- I need you to fuck me like you mean it.”

 

Hanzo didn’t even speak. He seemed beyond words. Instead he shifted his grip to grasp at McCree’s ankles, pushed him beyond his normal flexibility. He shoved all his weight onto McCree until the alpha was pressed into their disheveled mattress with all the weight of his mate on top of him, pressed as close as could be.

 

“Like I  _ mean it?”  _ Hanzo gasped. His grip tightened to a near-painful strength. McCree whined, his cock bobbing above his stomach in pitiful excitement. “I would tend to you for weeks if need be, and you ask me if I  _ mean it _ ?”

 

“I didn’t mean nothin’ by it,” McCree whined,  struggling against Hanzo’s hands. “Just-- a little more force, yeah?”

 

Hanzo grit his teeth and spoke not a word, opting instead to adjust his stance and pound into McCree. The toy popped in and out, making McCree’s hole increasingly sloppy, loose and wet and pliant. McCree thought, distantly, about their first time: about Hanzo’s fingers slipping in alongside his cock, that sweet stretch and wriggling fullness. 

 

There was something missing, though. He squirmed and moaned, but still-- some aspect was just out of reach. It took Hanzo bending down and clamping his teeth onto one nipple for it to click.

 

A few licks would have had him tensing up at that point, but the teeth grazing his nipple had McCree jerking wildly under Hanzo’s weight. His back arched, his hips spasmed; and when Hanzo sucked greedily, a thin stream of sweet, creamy milk spurted out, dribbling messily over his beard and into McCree’s chest hair. 

 

Hanzo’s hand were everywhere at once. They cupped his chest, they squeezed his waist, they carded through his hair and pulled at his thighs and tugged relentlessly at his cock. When they finally paused, it was to cup the swelling at the base of McCree’s cock: that hot, red knot of flesh so sensitive and sweet that it might as well have been a direct overload switch in plain sight.

 

McCree lost all the air in his lungs when Hanzo’s hands finally stilled, cupped around his knot. His thumb dragged slowly, the nail blunt, the pad of his finger rough; McCree could feel every ridge of his fingerprint lingering on that swelling of flesh as if being branded. 

 

McCree jumped, spasmed, curled in on himself when he came. It was more intense than a typical alpha rut, though more short-lived. Thick cum dribbled out of his cock in bursts, wet globs of it sinking into his pubes and down towards where they were joined. Hanzo panted, stilling. The toy was still attached, still inside McCree.

 

“Just  _ do it,”  _ McCree hissed. 

 

That was all the encouragement Hanzo needed. Lips still locked around one puffy nipple, he jerked his hips roughly until McCree was jumping with oversensitivity. He dragged the fat head of his cock through his slick channel, watching, enraptured, as the cock attachment slipped in and out through the tight ring of muscle. When he felt himself nearing his peak, he shoved in hard, then… held himself.

 

McCree gasped, grasping desperately at Hanzo’s shoulders. His nails dug in, sure to leave marks later.

 

McCree whined pitifully, submissively, in a way that most of his instincts told him was wrong. But he was beyond that-- he was lost in pleasure, desperate to simply obey the whims of his spirit. And his spirit was telling him to enjoy his time with his mate. He wrapped his legs around Hanzo and drew him close, pulled him in for a kiss.

 

It was sloppy, probably messy, definitely less than coordinated. McCree sucked at the hinge of Hanzo’s jaw, nipped at his lips. When they finally met, he could taste himself on Hanzo’s tongue, milky and sweet. 

 

It took exactly one pulse from McCree, one desperate pull from his body to push Hanzo into overdrive. The omega came hard, every muscle in him pulled taut, aimed towards merging with McCree. Their hips met, their lips mashed, their sweat mingled; McCree might have been speaking tongues for all the sense he made when Hanzo clamped down on their shared mating mark, renewing its colors for all the world to see. 

 

McCree had been hot all evening, preternaturally warm from hormones and humidity; when Hanzo stilled, it settled something in him. He waited patiently, so still, for the sensations he’d been working towards

 

The wet splash, the gushing greed; his body sucking Hanzo in until nothing was between them. The overwhelming fullness of the artificial knot fulfilled something in him and stalled, hard and insistent, right at the base of his spine. 

 

Eventually, the sensations peaked, then dulled. McCree sighed, stretched, nuzzled into Hanzo’s neck. He kissed at the mark he’d placed there himself, taking joy in the brightness of its reds and purples; no one would be able to claim he hadn’t made his possessiveness clear any time soon.

 

Hanzo took his time leaving McCree, carefully extricating the thick base of the sleeve. McCree sucked in a breath when the knot popped out, slipping away slowly as Hanzo withdrew and leaving only a wet mess of cum and McCree’s own slick behind. 

 

McCree ran a lazy hand over his stomach, through the cum and sweat and milk drying in his body hair. Keeping one eye on Hanzo while the omega removed the sheath and cleaned himself up, McCree dipped his fingers lower still, past his heavy sac and down to his soft, loose opening. He ran his fingers over it, fighting down a whine when he felt a gooey trail leaking down onto the bed.

 

Something in him shouted to block it, keep it in. He pushed his fingers in a bit, then pulled them out again as he got a better idea.

 

“Hey, Han.” He said, rolling himself onto his stomach and lifting his hips--  _ presenting _ . “You said you were gonna breed me, sweetheart. How’re you planning to do that if you let your precious cum leak out?”

 

Hanzo’s face was pink from exertion, his hair wild and loose around his head. He turned back from where he’d set the sleeve down to eye McCree greedily. McCree watched, smirk in place, as Hanzo’s eyes locked on McCree’s fingers. McCree was carefully spreading his cheeks, fully aware of the dribble of thick cum that was leaking out of him with every little leftover spasm. He wiggled a little for show, rolling his hips so that his cock dragged along the sheets. He was already warming up again, the one orgasm leaving him slower but as horny as ever. 

 

Hanzo was quick to rummage around through their drawers again, beaming when he found what he was looking for: a wide plug, flared at the base-- one of their favorites. 

 

“Is this enough for you?” Hanzo asked smugly.

 

“ _ Hell _ yeah,” McCree moaned, pulling at his own asscheeks again. He snuck one hand under himself to palm at his chest. He was more than warmed up to the idea of milking himself, now that it was happening. He decided not to worry about it. If it kept up post-heat, he’d ask Mercy, but it couldn’t hurt to just...enjoy it, right?

 

Hanzo sat back down on the bed with McCree, plug resting on the sheets next to him. Any other time it might be intimidatingly large to start with, but McCree was sure that at the moment he could fit just about anything inside himself and still crave more. 

 

Hanzo ran his hands over McCree’s sweaty back, digging into the tense muscles right at the dip of his spine. They skated down to the fat globes of his cheeks, gripping tightly until McCree’s skin went pink under his fingers. 

 

“Would that I could plug you full on my own, dearest,” Hanzo purred. “But this will have to do for now.” With that, he picked up the toy and, coating it in a precautionary layer of lube, slid it home. There was a brief moment of resistance, and then the widest part of it popped in and settled snugly. Hanzo eyed his handiwork with pleasure while McCree mashed his forehead into the sheets. Eyes closed once again, he could only focus on the warming pressure against his walls. A deep rumble started up in his chest at the idea of being so full of cum and not letting any more of it leak out. He slowly tugged on his cock, flexing experimentally and yelping when Hanzo wiggled the toy by the base.

 

“Watch it!” McCree whined. 

 

“If you want me to  _ breed  _ you,” Hanzo teased, “let me work.”

 

McCree turned away, red-faced, pressing himself into the sheets and raising his hips further. Hanzo shuffled around on the sheets until he, too, was kneeling. One hand never left the base of the plug, and McCree groaned at the slight tugging every time it was jostled. 

 

Hanzo was wholly preoccupied with McCree’s hole, so it was no surprise that he didn’t notice McCree’s hands until it was too late. Hanzo jolted when McCree’s fingers dug into his hair, yanking him forward. 

 

“Just-- just a little bit,” McCree mumbled into the sheets. “Please, sweetheart?”

 

Hanzo huffed a laugh, but leaned in to press a kiss into the back of one thick thigh. He gently extricated McCree’s fingers from his hair, settling his palm on the sheets but tangling their fingers together. 

 

“I wouldn’t neglect you,” Hanzo murmured, pressing kisses into McCree’s inner thigh, up and up until he met the swell of his swinging testicles. “Shall I show you?”

 

McCree sighed when Hanzo tongued at the heavy swell of his balls, sucking gently and rolling each one over his lips. Hanzo jostled the plug a little bit, then ran a finger around the edge of it to gather a meager bit of slick that had leaked out. He looked at it consideringly as if tempted to lick it off his fingers, then thought better of it. 

 

Hanzo palmed at McCree’s sac with his slick hand, nosing down between his legs to where his cock hung red and heavy, swinging with each wiggle of the toy. Hanzo swiped the broad flat of his tongue over the shaft, making a pleased noise when he felt a drip of precum run down McCree’s cock and drip onto his wrist below where he was holding himself stable.

 

Pulling away with a gasp, Hanzo wiped spit off his chin with one hand and then motioned for McCree to turn himself over.

 

McCree’s legs still felt shaky when he tried to maneuver himself. His head was less foggy, but he still ached, still had a sheen of sweat over his back. He was amazed to see that there was still a glint of wetness on his chest when he finally settled back onto the bed.

 

Hanzo settled between McCree’s legs with a sigh. Looking up McCree’s body to meet his eyes, Hanzo smiled softly and pressed another kiss into his thigh. 

 

“Comfortable?”

 

McCree nodded silently, unable to muster up a word. His breath hitched when Hanzo leaned in again and nuzzled gently at his cock, sucking wet kisses into the shaft. He was hard already, his knot still a bit swollen and sensitive, and Hanzo was being  _ maddeningly  _ gentle with him.

 

“ _ Hanzo _ ,” McCree whined. “A little faster, darlin’, if you please.”

 

In lieu of answer, Hanzo slipped his lips over the head of McCree’s cock, hollowing his cheeks and sliding down until McCree could feel himself hitting the back of the omega’s throat. His hips jumped-- first forward, into Hanzo’s mouth, then violently backwards as the movement caused the plug to press against his walls viciously. Hanzo only hummed and chased him, swallowing deeply until he had McCree entirely in his mouth, wiry body hair scratching against his beard.

 

McCree whined and twitched and curled his toes, unable to move and unsure he wanted to. He was paralyzed, stuck on a peak. All it would take was a little bit--

 

Hanzo swallowed thickly, and the constriction did McCree in. He spasmed as Hanzo pulled off just in time for McCree to knot. Hanzo panted harshly against McCree’s thigh, closing his eyes and suckling at the red swell of his knot as McCree clenched around the toy in hard convulsions. Fat spurts of cum spilled over his cock, over Hanzo’s face, all over McCree’ stomach.

 

By the time McCree came down from the high, Hanzo had gently pulled away and wiped his face off on the corner of a sheet. He settled in to sit against the headboard, grabbing a water bottle and handing it to McCree.

 

“Don’t take the plug out just yet,” Hanzo warned before cracking open a water bottle of his own. “You may want it later.” He winked. “I may help you with it later.”

 

McCree laughed heartily, whining just a little bit when the movement sent sensitive jolts down his spine. He sighed and took a sip of the water-- then a bigger gulp, downing the rest of the bottle before dropping back into the sheets with a sigh.

 

“Thirsty work,” McCree chuckled. 

  
“Practice helps,” Hanzo said primly. His tone turned sly. “As you’ve seen.”

 

McCree huffed a laugh and scooted closer to Hanzo, draping himself over his mate’s lap. He looked up at Hanzo with sleepy eyes, rumbling appreciatively when Hanzo scratched at his scalp.

 

“Maybe I should let you coach me through these things, huh?” McCree said with a sleepy laugh. 

 

“Hmm,” Hanzo hummed, taking another sip of water. He patted McCree’s chest. McCree tried not to think too much about the milk still drying in his body hair.  “The worst is right at the beginning. But you already knew that.”

 

“It sure as shit is,” McCree agreed. “Anything we can do to make it better?”

 

Hanzo leaned down to kiss McCree’s forehead. McCree nuzzled into the touch, arm winding around Hanzo’s waist comfortingly.

 

“We can nest together-- that often helps. I like going grocery shopping with you before my heats.”

 

“Picking out food together sounds mighty domestic, yeah,” McCree mumbled. “Might be nice to have a say in what kind of garbage we eat during this thing.”

 

“And-- well--” Hanzo bit his lip. 

 

“Yeah?” McCree prompted. 

 

“There are other ways to deal with it. There are...implants. Hormone blockers.” Hanzo patted McCree fondly. “You have  _ options,  _ Jesse. I deal with my heats as they come because they are not overly severe. Not everyone has that luxury.”

 

McCree raised an eyebrow, then turned into Hanzo’s lap. He hugged him close, contemplating his next words.

 

“Good to know, I guess.” 

 

“Have some words with Angela next time you see her,” Hanzo urged. “You do not have to do this every time.”

 

“I…” McCree paused, nearly swallowing his words. “It might not be so bad. With you here, that is.”

 

Hanzo looked surprised. 

 

“You are sure?”

 

McCree nodded. “I’d have to think about it. These damned things are irregular to begin with, y’know? Might be okay to just, uh...to make something special of it.”

 

Hanzo leaned down, kissing McCree softly. McCree sighed and basked in the warmth of the gesture.

 

“Whatever you decide,” Hanzo said into McCree’s hairline, “I will be here with you.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find more writing on my NSFW blog at hhgggx.tumblr.com. :) I post prompts, polls, and a heck of a lot of other great stuff daily.


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